If you love email spam, you can thank Alan Ralsky. He started spamming back before anyone knew what spam was, in the late 90s. By 2001, he managed to push so much shit through the Verizon servers he shut them down, leading to a lawsuit from Verizon.

That lawsuit was settled and by 2002, Ralsky was rolling in enough dick enlargement cream cash to buy a $750,000 mansion. He continued spamming, using a database of 250 million names, charging companies to send out their shit e-mails for them. Up to 70 million a day, by his own admission.

As with all great assholes, the taint of arrogance was right around the corner, under the ballsack of stupidity. Ralsky, smug and potentially borderline retarded, did an interview with the Detroit News in which he seemed quite pleased with himself and the legal way he was doing business.

Readers didn’t find things as amusing as he did and when the interview was posted on Slashdot, some people went out of their way to find the address to his new home, which they then posted. The result was Ralsky being signed up to every hardcopy mailing campaign people could find.

Snail mail, as the kids call it, started arriving at Ralsky’s mansion by the truckload. Literally by the truckload, as tons of it was delivered to his house each and every day. Ralsky’s reaction was to complain that he was being harassed and was going to sue. This lead to massive bouts of laughter and an unprecedented level of not giving a shit. But at least the man won’t have to leave home to do his Christmas shopping.

Source: Cracked.com

For those of you following my rants about the construction of the corpse-like Loser Dolls (as I will refer to them from now on), I have completely neglected the ladies in giving them a peek at what these creepy, rubbery masturbatory devices look like.

The folks at “Real Doll” HQ have discontinued their male model for now, unfortunately. I’m thinking that it had something to do with the fact that no woman wants a fuck-toy that behaves like a real man - watching television and drinking beer. (Even an inanimate male needs to have the remote!)

Now, both sexes can indulge their necrophiliac tendencies!